


In Loco Parentis

by DoctorBane



Category: Immortal Hulk, Marvel (Comics), The Incredible Hulk (Comics)
Genre: Brian Banner's A+ Parenting, Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 11:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21445462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorBane/pseuds/DoctorBane
Summary: I never wanted to be a father. Sometimes I don't feel like a father, just a placeholder in loco parentis.
Kudos: 11





	In Loco Parentis

I never wanted to be a father. Sometimes I don't feel like a father, just a placeholder in loco parentis.

I should have told her. Maybe she would have stayed with me. She probably wouldn't have though. She really wanted children. She had so much love to give. I wish I had been enough. I wish I had been a better husband. A better father. Unfortunately it is too late for that.

It's been a long day. Work has been stressing me out. I sometimes wonder if it was really worth me taking it. I'm doing good for the world, but it's just so... stressful. The hours are unending. Sure it pays well, but what's the point if I'm too tired to enjoy it?

Driving home, I tell myself tonight will be better. I'll be nice tonight. I can do that, I've done it before. Sure, I've had slip-ups. But dammit, I try. I try to be good. I do love my family after all. It's just... kids are hard. And this one is just so smart... It's not natural.

I walk in the door, slipping off my shoes. I grab a beer from the fridge. The cold liquid touches my tongue, and runs down the back of my throat. God, I've been needing this. Craving its cold embrace. 

The boy's in the living room.  
"Hey Bruce," I say. He flinches when he hears my voice, and I try to keep myself steady. "How was school?"  
"Good", he says quietly.  
"Where's your mother?" I ask, hoping to get something more than quiet apathy from him.  
"At the corner store. She should be back soon." He looks back at the model he's building.  
I look at him for a minute, and sit down on the sofa. I can't do this tonight, it's been a long day and besides, the little brat clearly doesn't want to talk to me. I turn on the TV.  
There's some commercial. A boy and his father playing happily. Laughing. I look at my son. He looks at me, shaking. I look back at the television. Happy smiles.  
Fuck this. I snap off the television.  
"You know what boy, when I speak to you you speak back. You conversate with me, okay?" He flinches again, and this just makes me angrier. "And stop fucking twitching, you little spastic! What, you scared of me? Huh? I'm your father, what have you got to be scared of?"  
"It's just... You get so angry" he says, knees drawn up. He hugs his shins, brown with brusing. "I don't want to make you angry."  
"Well tough fucking shit! You make me angry all the fucking time! You leave your toys lying around for me to trip over, you barely talk to me! Oh but you'll talk to your fucking mother! What does she do, huh? I'm the one who brings in the money! I put food on the table, I pay the goddamn mortgage!" I'm screaming now, and he backs away, up against the wall. Why doesn't he realise how he hurts me when he does that? I'm not some fucking monster, I'm his father.  
"Daddy please, you're scaring me," he whines.  
"Oh stop your snivelling you little worm," I say, and throw the beer bottle at him. It misses, and hits the model. Model pieces and broken glass fly everywhere. All of a sudden it's like a switch is thrown, and I'm stood there looking at my son huddled in a ball crying, the smell of alcohol filling the room.  
"Bruce... I... I..." I stammer, unable to speak. It's thirty years ago, and I'm under the bed cowering from the monster. He screams and throws things, looking for me. A hand appears under the bed and drags me out, screaming, into Hell.  
The memory fades, and I realise I'm the monster now. I never wanted to be, God I never did. 

Bruce is a man now. A scientist. I want to see him, to make up for all the times I was rotten to him. To try and explain to him that I never meant to hurt him, it's just that I had my own issues. He doesn't listen. He tells me that there's no excuse for what I did, that as a fellow survivor of childhood abuse I should have done better. He tells me that he never wants to see me again. I beg him not to walk out the door, but he ignores me. He tells me I'm dead to him, and to never call him again.  
Maybe I deserve it.


End file.
